


where i first met you (it makes all the difference)

by mogirl97



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, alternate first meeting with ripple effects on the canon events of season 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 22:29:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15204818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mogirl97/pseuds/mogirl97
Summary: “Oliver,” he emphasized. “Mr. Queen was my father.”“Right. And he’s dead. Drowned. But you didn’t. Which is why you’re here, at my yoga class. To do yoga, not listen to me babble. Which is why it will stop in 3...2...1…” She pursed her lips and closed her eyes, embarrassment evident on her face.He was afraid of looking like a fool if he came to yoga but he had envisioned it being due to balancing on one leg, not the smile the teacher brought to his face. There was just something about her that felt like sunshine personified.{an alternative first meeting for olicity}





	where i first met you (it makes all the difference)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fbismoak (midwestwind)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/midwestwind/gifts).



> i've been reading the amazing season 1 AU: strangers in the night (passing in the shadows) by elle {SmoakScreen (midwestwind)} and it had me itching to dive into season 1. while on vacation this week I had this idea for an alternative first meeting for olicity and unsurprisingly it turned into much more than i had planned with exploring the ripple effects it would have on some of the events of s1. Some things might be a little ooc for their mindsets in s1, but I tried to keep it pretty in character even with the twists. I hope you enjoy and I would love to here your thoughts :D

Oliver winced at the tenderness in his muscles as he walked down the stairs of his home. His whole body was aching from three consecutive nights on the street, chasing down the lead he needed to cross another name off his list. When he made it to the bottom step he was surprised to see his sister had just let herself inside the front door—and not in clubbing clothes from a night out. He did a double take at her leggings and cropped tank, her hair pulled back into a ponytail with a few free strands curling around her face. Checking his watch he confirmed that it was only 8:30 am on a Saturday morning and yet she was apparently already _returning_ from a _workout._

“Who are you and what have you done with my sister?” he asked.

She rolled her eyes, “Funny, Ollie.”

“Seriously, where were you?”

“Yoga.”

The mat she was carrying should’ve been the clue that gave that away to him, but he was still getting over the shock of seeing her under such circumstances.

“Since when do you do yoga?”

“Since Laurel started taking me.”

He perked up, “Laurel?”

That earned him another eye roll, “Don’t look around for her, she dropped me off and left.” She brushed past him, heading in the direction of the kitchen, and continued to explain, “She loves her job but it was stressing her out, so she and her friend Joanna got into yoga. And now I go with them.” Glancing over her shoulder, she saw him following, saw the stiffness in his movement that he was failing to completely disguise, and added, “Looks like you could probably benefit from it too.”

He shook his head, “No thanks.”

His only experience with yoga was with Shado and it had resulted in him feeling like a complete fool. For all the mastery he had over his body—his controlled strength, he had no intention of looking ridiculous trying to contort himself into impossible shapes.

Thea sat down on one of the barstools in the kitchen and accepted a plate of food from Raisa with a, _“Thank you.”_ He wasn’t off the hook yet though, as she spread blueberry jam on her toast she looked up at him with insistence, “Oh come on, just one class?”

Now that he thought about it, his sister’s demeanor had improved over the past two weeks. Clearly the practice was benefiting her, and he was glad for that, but that didn’t mean that he needed anything from it. His stress relieving workout of choice was sledge-hammering away at a tire, or taking a few rounds on the salmon ladder.

Thea was giving him full on puppy eyes though and as he sat down next to her to accept the plate of food Raisa was offering, he sighed in resignation, “I’ll think about it.”

Which meant “no” but gave her an opening to work on turning it into a “yes.” An opening that she somehow managed to exploit by appealing to the guilt he felt over not spending much time with her since he had gotten home.

And that’s how he found himself at Starling City House of Yoga at 7:00am the following Saturday.

When he had followed Thea out of the house upon Laurel’s arrival to pick her up, his ex had been less than thrilled about him tagging along since she was still icing him out. Which, to be fair, was what he had basically told her to do during their confrontation at his welcome home party. Her open disdain for him still stung though. Joanna raised a surprised eyebrow in the rearview mirror when he climbed into the backseat of the car, his knees pushed up towards his chest in the cramped space, but declined to make any comments.

Needless to say it was a slightly awkward car ride and by the time he followed them into the softly light studio, he was already brimming with regrets.

“Laurel, Thea, Joanna,” someone greeted them. He turned to the source of the voice and when she saw him her eyes widened, “Oh, and you’ve brought a guest.”

He dipped his head in greeting, “Oliver Queen.”

She shook her head slightly to clear the dazed look on her face, “Of course. I know who you are Mr. Queen.”

“Oliver,” he emphasized. “Mr. Queen was my father.”

“Right. And he’s dead. Drowned. But you didn’t. Which is why you’re here, at my yoga class. To do yoga, not listen to me babble. Which is why it will stop in 3...2...1…” She pursed her lips and closed her eyes, embarrassment evident on her face.

He was afraid of looking like a fool if he came to yoga but he had envisioned it being due to balancing on one leg, not the smile the teacher brought to his face. There was just something about her that felt like sunshine personified. It was no wonder that Thea had seemed lighter lately if she had been on the receiving end of that warmth. Suddenly he was no longer regretting letting his sister drag him to the class.

“Oliver, this is Felicity,” Thea jumped in to assist her.

_Fe-li-ci-ty. Of course her name means happiness._

“She actually works at Queen Consolidated, in the IT department,” his sister added, and he tucked that piece of knowledge into the back of his mind.

“Right. Yes.” Felicity seemed to have regrouped—she looked less like she hoped a hole would open up in the floor for her to fall through. She gestured around at the studio, “This is just a side hustle.”

Somewhat unconsciously, he reached out to gently touch her bare shoulder where a few freckles dotted her smooth skin. “Nice to meet you Felicity.”

Her gaze flickered to his fingers and he watched her swallow before retracting his hand, more reluctantly than he’d like to admit.

She met his eyes again and replied, “Likewise, Oliver. I hope you enjoy today’s class.”

He was given a mat to borrow and directed towards where he should position it. Too close to the front for his comfort. Ignoring his sister, he set himself up in the very back. His sudden unexplainable desire to be near Felicity did not outweigh his need to not be visible to the entire class.

Felicity started them out in mountain pose, which just meant standing at the front of their mat to get “grounded” and “connected to their breathing.” Closing his eyes in an unfamiliar situation was out of the question for him, instead he darted his gaze around the room at the other people in the class, assessing them. He noticed that several of the men wore no shirt. The cotton of his t-shirt suddenly felt rough, but shedding it would be baring more than just his skin. He couldn’t imagine ever allowing anyone to see the way the past five years had marked him. He didn’t want their pity, feared their horror.

Felicity met his eyes and he quickly turned his gaze down, afraid she would see the vulnerability of his thoughts reflected in them.

The flow of the class progressed and he was in downward dog, focusing intently on Felicity’s cues meant to guide them into proper form, when he suddenly felt her hands on his hips. Instinctively, he flinched at the touch and she quickly pulled back with a soft apology under her breath.

“No!” came out louder than he intended, drawing the attention of several people around him, craning their necks to look at him while maintaining their inverted position. He was so used to people putting hands on him with the intention to harm and always needing to have his guard up. He was still getting reacclimated to forms of human contact he hadn’t experienced in too long, like hugs from his mother. The unexpectedness of Felicity’s touch had caught him off guard but it hadn’t been unwelcome. Lowering his voice, he explained, “It’s fine. I was just surprised.”

She gave him a small nod and continued guiding the class through the sequence, drifting away from him to provide adjustments to others. He hoped she would return.

He got his wish as they settled into the final pose of the class, savasana. The intention was to relax, to release any tension that the body was still holding onto. Despite his best efforts to follow her directives, relaxing was not something he was capable of doing when he was lying prone on the floor with his eyes closed, exposed to an attack that his rational mind knew wasn’t coming but his instincts had his body alert for.

He sensed her kneeling by his head and he prepared himself to not recoil when she tentatively placed her hands on his shoulder. Not meeting any resistance, her touch became more firm as she massaged his shoulders. He breathed deeply, inhaling the sweet vanilla fragrance that emanated off of her. Some of the tension in his muscles started to ease under her skilled hands and he stifled a moan that threatened to escape. Before he was ready for her to move away, she was making one last motion to smooth her hands across his shoulders, applying pressure to guide them down onto the mat and away from his ears.

When the class was over and he was rolling up his mat to return to the front desk, Felicity approached him and crouched down to say, “I’m sorry about earlier. I usually ask newbies before class begins if they’re comfortable with me adjusting them and it completely slipped my mind.”

“It’s okay. This isn’t really my thing, so I clearly needed your help.”

She shook her head, “Oh no, trust me, you did really well for this being your first class. You’re obviously strong and umm… in control of your body.” Her cheeks pinked, “Which I noticed, as a teacher. Of yoga.”

He couldn’t help but grin. “Thank you.”

Rising to stand, he extended the hand that wasn’t holding onto his mat to help her up. Her hand fit nicely in his. A passing observation.

She let go of his hand and clasped hers together, “So ummm… now I know for next time. Adjustments are okay.”

He heard Thea’s laugh and noticed that she had made her way over to them, “I wouldn’t count on ever seeing Ollie again. I practically had to drag him here kicking and screaming.”

Felicity deflated a little, “Oh.”

Shooting his sister a look, he addressed Felicity, “That’s not true. And I was pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoyed it.” Her smile returned and he continued, “You might see me again.”

* * *

“Felicity?”

She startled, swiveling in her chair and dropping the red pen she had been chewing on. It had been three days since he took her yoga class and she hadn’t left his mind. He silently thanked the mercenary he had encountered the night before for giving him an excuse to see her before Saturday.

“Oliver. Hi.” Her brow furrowed in confusion. “What are you doing here?” It sounded a little like an accusation and she shook her head, “I didn’t mean it to come out like that. It’s your building, well your family’s building, so obviously you can be here. I’m just surprised to see you here. In the IT department.” She fiddled with glasses she hadn’t been wearing on Saturday. They brought attention to her blue eyes that she screwed shut in embarrassment before opening again, “Can I help you with something?”

The corners of his mouth ticked up. Genuine smiles came few and far between lately but she apparently had a way of inciting them. He held up the bullet ridden laptop he had retrieved and her eyebrows raised in interest.

When she had finished recovering the information he had been after—he didn’t believe for one second that she was buying his bullshit about his coffee shop being in a bad neighborhood, but he was glad she hadn’t outright called him on it—he thanked her and stood up to leave her cubicle.

“See you on Saturday?” she asked hopefully.

He wanted to say yes, but he was trying not to make promises he couldn’t keep. Any number of things could come up that would prevent him from making an appearance, especially now that he had an idea of what Deadshot—Floyd Lawton, was after.

So he settled for offering her a, _“Maybe.”_

—

Much to his chagrin, the events that unfolded at the UNIDAC auction—and afterwards with Diggle—kept him away from the yoga studio that weekend. By the time the following weekend rolled around, he practically leapt out of bed before the alarm he had set _just in case_ went off. The action was met with protest from his tight and aching muscles, but a smile was on his face at the thought of getting to see Felicity again.

When Thea met him downstairs in the foyer, she eyed him curiously. “What is that on your face? Is that… a smile?” He dipped his head shyly and she continued, “Did you fix things with Laurel?”

He frowned. In truth, he hadn’t thought much about Laurel during the past two weeks. He wasn’t sure if he should feel guilty about that or not.

“I—“

He was spared from answering when Thea’s phone buzzed with a text from Laurel, announcing her arrival. In the car on the way to the studio, Laurel and Joanna were discussing a case that Laurel was taking on. _Arguing about_ was probably a more accurate description than discussing though.

“You do not want to go up against Brodeur,” Joanna whispered angrily. “I know you want to help, but he is dangerous.”

_Brodeur. Jason Brodeur?_

The name was one of the ones on his list.

Laurel glanced up in the rear view mirror and seemed to remember that he and Thea were in the backseat and shouldn’t be privy to the conversation, because she changed the subject to something unrelated to work.

If Laurel was going up against Jason Brodeur, The Hood— _he hated that moniker_ —should probably pay her a visit and reinforce Joanna’s warning.

When they arrived at the studio, he sought out Felicity. She was greeting another attendee, but she brightened when he caught her eye and excused herself to make her way over to them.

“Laurel, Joanna, Thea… Oliver.” Her eyes lingered a little longer on him before returning to Thea. “I heard about what happened at the UNIDAC auction, is everyone in your family alright?”

“Yes, thankfully we all made it out unscathed,” Thea answered. He had definitely not made it out unscathed, but his sister didn’t know that. Nor did she need to. “I missed being here last week, but I didn’t want to leave my family alone the morning after we got shot at.”

He was pretty sure that last sentence was directed at him. He had gotten chewed out by Laurel for abandoning his family to run after Deadshot, and Thea hadn’t been happy with him either.

“Oh of course, I understand.” Felicity extended her hand to lightly touch Thea’s arm and he tamped down a sudden, foolish wave of jealousy that he wasn’t on the receiving end of her comforting. “I’m glad you all made it out safe.”

Class was due to begin so they set out their mats—this time he ventured a little closer to the front of the room.

Moving into downward dog, he was ready for her when she stepped up to him and guided him into proper alignment. His shirt had shifted, leaving some of his lower back exposed, and his breath hitched when she gently brushed her fingers across the mangled scar tissue there. He was glad he was in a position where he couldn’t see her face, he didn’t want any insight into what she was thinking. She smoothed his shirt back in place and ran her hand down his spine, applying pressure to relax him, before stepping away to help someone else.

_Someone who isn’t damaged._

* * *

His arrest put a halt to his yoga class attendance and his body was feeling it. He had been skeptical about the benefits it would offer him, but the regular flexibility training over the past few weeks had him feeling even more nimble out on the field. He wasn’t waking up the morning after a rough night feeling quite as much like a tightly coiled spring. And then there was Felicity.

He missed her.

He needed to see her.

Diggle gave him a hard time for summoning her to help search for Derek Reston, a task he could’ve probably accomplished himself. Her quip about being appointed to “personal internet researcher for Oliver Queen,” hinted that she agreed he was asking her to do something below her pay grade. But still, she helped— _“happily”_ —and he was glad for the opportunity to be in her presence.

The information she found weighed heavily on his heart. He knew his father had made mistakes, but hearing about the consequences of them increased the pressure he felt to make things right.

On her way out of the office, Felicity looked back over her shoulder. “I’m covering another teacher’s class on Thursday night this week. You haven’t been in a while so I thought maybe…”

He didn’t want to make a promise he couldn’t keep.

“I’ll be there.”

* * *

When he arrived on Thursday he was all out of sorts from his dealings with the Royal Flush Gang. Mentally and physically.

He was distracted all through the class and it seemed to drag on forever. If Felicity noticed that something was off with him, she didn’t let it stop her from approaching him to offer adjustments.

After they emerged from savasana and Felicity closed out the class, he took his time to roll up his mat without feeling the usual rush from Laurel, Joanna, and Thea.

“Are you alright?”

He looked up at Felicity, concern etched on her face, and then around at the now empty studio.

“Yes.” His reflexive, practiced answer. And then, “No.” The real one.

She lowered herself down to sit cross legged on the floor and studied him. “Your lower back seemed a little tight. I could show you some things to help with that…”

He knew she wasn’t dumb, and that she was perfectly aware that whatever was bothering him went deeper than his muscles. But he was appreciative of the fact that she wasn’t pressing him about it, just offering a reason to keep him company a little longer.

Nodding he replied, “That would be nice.”

A small smile appeared on her face, “I might have to charge extra for a private session though.”

He rolled his mat back out, “Name your price.

She instructed him to find child’s pose while she re-dimmed the lights to the level they were normally at for savasana. The soft music playing, the low lights, and the warm temperature combined to create an intimate feeling in the studio.

“If I do anything that you’re not comfortable with, please let me know okay?” His face was pressed into the mat but he could imagine the expression on her face as she groaned, “Sorry. That makes it sound like we’re about to—“ She stopped herself, “Never mind. I’m just going to shut up now.”

He restrained a laugh that turned into a sharp inhale when she knelt behind him and started to run her hands along his back in soothing strokes. As she eased away the tension of the past few days that he was carrying in his muscles, he felt himself settle deeper into the pose.

Despite his best efforts to stay quiet, a moan escaped him and he felt his ears redden in embarrassment. Her hands stilled and he was worried he had broken the spell that had settled over them, but she continued a moment later.

She squeezed his shoulders gently, “Okay Oliver, I’m going to have you turn onto your back now for a spinal twist.”

Following her instructions, he shifted onto his back and she moved to kneel above his head.

“Starting to feel a little better?” she asked, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth.

Not for the first time did he think about kissing her.

“Mhmm,” he hummed appreciatively.

“Good.”

He waited for her to tell him what he should do next for the twist she was prescribing but she just watched him silently. It wasn’t unsettling. He didn’t shy away from her gaze like he had at the first class he attended. He wanted her to see him. Wanted someone to _actually_ see him.

When she dipped her head down, a few blonde strands that had fallen from her ponytail tickled his face. He stayed perfectly still though, waiting for her. Finally, her mouth found his and he returned her kiss eagerly. The angle was weird, plucked straight from Spider-Man, but he didn’t care. Her mouth was soft and warm and inviting. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been kissed. He couldn’t remember a kiss ever feeling like this.

She pulled away and he felt a rush of panic that he would open his eyes and see regret on her face. But when he looked up at her she was smiling shyly, her cheeks flushed.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while now,” she confessed in a whisper, even though there was no one there to overhear.

He eased himself up into a seated position to face her. His mind was far away now from the troubles of his week, something he might feel guilty about later, but he welcomed the chance to escape. The only thing he wanted to focus on was her.

His voice was husky, the octave borderline to the one he used to disguise his voice in the field, when he responded with, “You should do it again.”

She took his suggestion. Straddling his lap, she drew close to him and his body responded. He reached up to release her hair from its ponytail so he could run his hands through the soft curls as he angled her head to deepen the kiss.

He got lost in the sensation of intimacy he had long been denied—by circumstance and his own choosing—so much so that he didn’t notice her removing his shirt until he was reflexively lifting his arms to help her toss it aside. He froze as she took him in. As much as he wanted her to see him, he was afraid of how she would react to the things he kept hidden. She wasn’t looking at him with pity or horror though. It was something else, something he couldn’t find the word for.

Her fingertips slowly traced along his Bratva tattoo, her robin’s egg blue nail polish a sharp contrast to the crude green-black lines.

He thought his heart might stop when she pressed a kiss over it.

“You’ve had to be strong for a long time,” she muttered, memorizing the contours of the scars that littered his abdomen with gentle caresses.

_Reverence._

That was what she was looking at him with. It was unexpected.

He thought he was maybe a little bit in love with her.

* * *

He knew he had to tell her. The lies he was telling her were getting more and more ridiculous.

He was pretty sure she already knew. It was hard to keep a secret from someone you were sleeping with—who saw you in your most vulnerable state.

She never said anything about the bruises, the cuts on his face. Just kissed them.

He felt like there was an invisible sand timer counting down to when he would lose her—either to the lies or the truth. Maybe it would be for the best, for her to leave him. He wasn’t sure he deserved her, but he didn’t have the strength to let her go.

Whenever he was with her he didn’t have to be what everyone else in his life needed him to be.

He had learned quickly that she, not unlike him, was looking for someone to _see_ her. See how truly remarkable she was. He made sure she knew that he did.

It was hard for him to believe that he was capable of making someone happy with the broken pieces of himself that still remained after his five years in hell. When she smiled because of him, he felt more whole.

And so, while he wasn’t sure he could call what they were doing a relationship, it was far from meaningless.

If his sister or Laurel had caught on to the connection between him and their yoga teacher, they didn’t show it. If anything, they figured they had managed to convert him into a yoga junkie with his enthusiasm for attending Saturday morning class with them. They didn’t know about the private sessions that more often than not ended with their clothes scattered on the floor. Didn’t know about the late night Scrabble games at her apartment. Didn’t know that she was the one who was catching him up on all the best movies he had missed during his time away. Not because he wanted to keep her a secret, but because she existed on the line between his two identities.

They didn’t know about the favors he asked of her as the weeks passed and he crossed name after name off his list.

He wasn’t Ollie Queen with her, and he wasn’t The Hood. She was the only person in his life for which he was just Oliver. If they were seen out together, if he brought her home to his family, he would be subjecting her to the suffocating scrutiny of being his girlfriend. If she knew he was the man under the hood, she would undoubtedly see him differently.

He wanted to be just Oliver with her for a little longer.

* * *

“Don’t fall on my face.”

She shot him a look, “Don’t drop me.”

He grinned as he lifted his arms up for her to balance on. The past week had been a difficult one—between his mother getting shot and his subsequent investigation into the Bertinelli crime ring—he had been more than willing to hang up the hood for the night when Felicity called and asked if he was free.

When he had gotten to the yoga studio, emptied out after the last class of the evening, she had announced that she thought he was ready to give acro-yoga a try. And that’s how he ended up lying on the floor in his current position.

Looking up at her, he watched as she moved gracefully into the pose she had shown him a picture of. It was calming to focus on nothing but holding her up, the stress of his week slipping away like it always did when he was with her.

“How am I doing?” he asked.

Her voice was a little strained from the effort she was exerting to be in a precarious backbend, “Perfect.”

After he helped ease her down, she reached for her phone to find a picture of the next pose she wanted to try. While she was looking at her screen, the little crinkle appeared between her eyebrows and she pressed her lips tightly together.

He reached out and brushed the back of his knuckles against her leg, “I’m up for the challenge of whatever you want to try.”

When she looked up at him though, he got the sense that whatever was bothering her had nothing to do with their current activity.

“Umm…”

She looked like she was debating with herself before she handed him her phone and he sighed in understanding. She had opened her Instagram to find that the post at the top of her feed, from an account that posted Starling City “news,” was a blurry, but discernible shot of him out to dinner with Helena Bertinelli.

“Felicity—“

She waved a hand dismissively, “It’s fine Oliver. I mean, this makes more sense anyway.”

“What?”

Looking down at her lap, she muttered, “Tall, dark, and gorgeous. That’s your type, right?”

“Felicity, this isn’t what it looks like. My family wanted me to look into a prospective deal with the Bertinelli family. This was a business meeting.”

In truth, had circumstances been different, he probably would’ve been drawn to Helena. And he didn’t think that would’ve ended well for him. He often felt like his own worst enemy and she was too much like looking in a mirror.

Setting her phone aside, he reached for Felicity’s hands. “Hey.” She lifted her eyes to meet his and he continued sincerely, “I don’t want to be with anyone but you.”

She studied him, her eyes searching his for confirmation he was telling the truth. She must’ve found what she was looking for because a smile flickered across her face before she leaned in to kiss him.

“So that other pose you wanted to try…?” he muttered against her lips.

She tugged up on the bottom hem of his shirt, “Forget about it.”

* * *

His encounter with the Dark Archer rattled him. He hadn’t anticipated it ending with him waking up in a hospital bed, unsure of how he had gotten there, with Digg spinning a fictitious tale of a motorcycle accident to hide the truth. Despite his friend’s reminder that the five hostages owed him their lives, he knew he had still failed the city and it weighed heavily on him.

After Digg had left for the night at his insistence, he reached for his phone and dialed the number for the voice he needed so desperately to hear. He wasn’t sure this was permitted in his concussion recovery protocol, but he didn’t care.

“Oliver? Oh my god. Are you okay? I saw on the news what happened with the hostage situation and I—“ she cut herself off abruptly but not before he was hit with the realization.

She knew.

The grains of sand had all fallen. Time was up and he had to confront the consequences of the truth, and the lies he had told her to protect it.

“Felicity, I—“

“Oliver, it’s okay. I didn’t need you to tell me, didn’t want you to. I’m not an idiot, but I liked believing you were just a normal guy who was into some weird shit that just happened to be related to The Hood’s hit list.” He heard her sigh. “A guy who… bruised really easily. Turning a blind eye to what was so obvious made it easier. I didn’t have to worry about you so much. I didn’t have to reconcile the fact that I’m in love with a killer.”

Love.

Killer.

Loaded words that rattled around in his pounding head.

She continued, “But that arrow you brought me to look into the other night… I just couldn’t keep lying to myself anymore.”

“I’m sorry.” He didn’t know what else to say. _That’s not true._ “I love you.”

_I need you._

He wasn’t supposed to. He was supposed to be doing this alone, but he had come to rely on her.

She was quiet for a moment and he thought maybe she had hung up on him. He was relieved when he heard her voice again, “Where are you?”

“Starling General. Collapsed lung. Some cracked ribs. Concussion.”

She groaned as if she was feeling his pain. “I guess you’re not going to be coming to yoga for a while.”

He was afraid of the answer but still ventured to ask, “Is that the only place you want to see me?”

“What do you mean?”

“I just thought since you—since you know what I am, that—“

She cut him off, “Oliver. Right now I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel about _what you do_. The things I guess I’ve been an accomplice in.”

The pain in his chest had nothing to do with his injuries. He knew he deserved her judgement, but it still hurt to feel her slipping away from him.

“I understand,” he managed to say in response.

“But _who you are_ is... someone I’m afraid to lose.”

_Oh._

“You could’ve died tonight. And I would’ve found out from the news, if at all.”

He could hear tears in her voice and he wished more than anything that she was beside him instead of on the other end of the phone. He wanted to hold her, reassure her he was going to be okay. For now. The Dark Archer was still out there, still posed a formidable threat, and he tried not to make her promises that he couldn’t keep.

“Felicity…”

“I’m coming to see you.”

He didn’t want to discourage her, but, “Visiting hours are over…”

“Yeah, that’s not going to stop me. What room are you in?”

A little over an hour later she was slipping quietly into his room and he raised his eyebrows. _Impressive._

“Well I’ve already engaged in a slew of criminal activity, so just add sneaking into a hospital to my charges,” she whispered.

Despite the levity in her voice, when she stepped closer to him and he could see her better, he noticed her red, puffy eyes. The lingering evidence of her crying.

She perched on the edge of his bed and reached out to brush her fingers through his hair affectionately.

When she didn’t say anything, he spoke up first, “I’m glad you know. You’re harder to lie to than everyone else.”

Gently taking a hold of one of his bruised hands in both of hers, she asked, “Why’s that?”

“I don’t know.” He took a deep breath, wincing as he was reminded of the extent of his injuries. “Everything is different with you.”

The corners of her mouth turned up in a small smile as she dipped her head.

“On the drive over here I had some time to think,” she started.

He stiffened, bracing himself for whatever she said next.

“And I realized that even now that I’m no longer pretending I wasn’t aware of what I was getting myself involved with, I don’t have any regrets about helping you. So I must not have very strong moral objections to your…” She paused and tilted her head thoughtfully, as though she was searching for the right word.

“Crusade,” he filled in for her.

She nodded, “Yeah.”

“And everything else? Do you regret…” He dropped his gaze to their joined hands.

“Falling in love with you?” Shaking her head, she answered, “No. Of course not. The past few months have been the happiest I’ve been in a long time.”

“Me too.”

She laughed dryly, “Yeah well, before you met me you were stranded on a deserted island so the bar was set pretty low for you.”

His own laugh dissolved into a grimace as he was hit with a wave of pain.

Her mouth twisted in sympathy and she let go of his hands, “Sorry. If you want me to leave so you can rest—“

“Stay. Please.”

She touched his knee gently to reassure him, “Okay.”

He carefully shifted himself so that she could lay next to his side that hadn’t received the brunt of the assault. The doctors weren’t going to be happy when they came in and discovered her there but he couldn’t care less.

“I shouldn’t have called you a killer,” she whispered after they were silent for a while and he thought she had already fallen asleep. It took him a second to remember what she was talking about, their earlier conversation on the phone.

“I’ve killed people Felicity.”

“I know but it’s… very reductionist to define you by that.” She lightly trailed her fingers along his forearm. “Why are you doing this? Why do you believe this city is your burden to shoulder? I know I said I don’t regret anything, but I think if I’m going to be able to keep helping you with a clear conscience, I need to understand.”

So he told her. He told her about his father, about his dying plea. He told her about the list, including the new revelation from that night that his father hadn’t authored it. There was so much from his five years away that he wasn’t ready to talk about, but he could give her this piece. The only other person he had entrusted this information with was Diggle and he found it was easier to talk about the second time around.

She listened attentively, and when he was finished she reached up to gently trace his jawline with her fingertips and observed, “You’re willing to sacrifice a lot for the good of others. Like a hero.”

He was quick to protest, “I’m not…”

Ignoring him, she continued, “There’s something I haven’t told you about. Something I’ve been looking into for your step-father.” His eyebrows lifted in surprise and she shared what she had been digging up for Walter, finishing with, “I can’t help but think that this is all connected somehow.”

His mind started piecing together this new information with everything he already knew. “I agree. So… where do we go from here?”

With the mission. With _them._

She sighed, “I can’t just go back to my life before you. I don’t want to.”  

* * *

“Felicity?”

His eyelids felt heavy as he opened them to the sound of his sister’s voice. Thea was standing at the foot of his bed, surprise on her face to see Felicity where she was still curled up beside him.  Before falling asleep the night before, she had agreed to officially joining on with him and Digg. He was aware of the risks that came with her getting more involved, but he could keep her safe. He had to. Loving her helped him to hold onto the parts of himself that donning the hood night after night threatened to strip completely away.  

“Hi Thea,” Felicity mumbled sleepily before stiffening beside him as she became more awake and aware that for Thea there wasn’t a precedent for her presence in his hospital bed. “Uhh…” she looked to him with uncertainty on her face.  

Before he could offer an explanation, his sister clapped her hands together excitedly. “I can’t believe I didn’t see this sooner.” She gestured at the two of them, “This makes way more sense than Oliver suddenly becoming very enthusiastically committed to Saturday morning yoga.” Perching on the edge of his bed, she rested a hand on his leg, “I feel like I deserve a thank you now for forcing you to come to class with me.”

The past few months certainly would’ve gone very differently if she hadn’t.


End file.
